Talk is cheap
by sarakirai
Summary: Talk is cheap, and he knows it. Especially so when it comes to her. [waka's POV of the undefinable whatever that he and seo have between them] [rated T for everything implied]


**Talk is cheap**

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**A/N:**

Disclaimer: I do not own GSNK

Rated T for the teenage mind. I know waka is portrayed as extremely innocent in canon/fanon but let's face it, he's a sixteen year old boy. And when you're a sixteen year old boy, I'd say there are certain...parameters to innocence, yanno. It's nothing overt, if anything they're all subtle references (I think). If you see nothing suspicious then congrats on being pure I guess lol

Was rereading the manga and felt like trying out waka's POV so yup this is the end result

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In the here and now, Wakamatsu doesn't like Seo at all.

She's the reason why he's been sporting so many bruised shins and scraped elbows lately, the reason why his head aches unmercifully from the impact of connecting with the gymnasium floor, the hard rubber of the ball leaving his cheek and temple sore for days. In short, her presence brings him nothing but pain – even off the court. She's loud and boisterous and lively, _too_ lively, and he hates how easily he's swept away by the force of her enthusiasm and the bruising strength of her grip on his tie. He hates how his goddamned easy going nature makes him unable to say no to her (effectively), hates how he's always too initially dumbfounded to refuse her invitations, and too weak-willed to go back on those promises afterwards.

It hurts to be dragged along in her wake, and it hurts to think that he's somehow _letting her_.

Wakamatsu doesn't like Seo at all, but still they continue as they are, because he can't bring himself to say anything. _Wuss_, he scolds himself after every encounter that he lives through. _Just open your mouth already, tell her how angry and frustrated and helpless she makes you feel._ It is ironic, but the very anger and frustration and helplessness that would propel him to speak his mind also compel him to keep his mouth resolutely shut. His fingers tremble, his fists clench, his brows furrow. A drop of sweat beads on his temple, but still he does not speak.

No wonder, then, that all he can do is smile and nod –

(Even though he doesn't like Seo-senpai at all)

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When she returns from vacations after the holidays, she gives him gifts. She gives him little souvenirs and trinkets, hands him seashells and scattered keepsakes of fond memories that he couldn't share with her. Just about anything she looks at while thinking of him could probably become a gift, even if she can't sneak live crustaceans and stray cats past airport security. He has to settle for nicely wrapped local delicacies and polished bits of glass the colour of his eyes that she sifted out of the seabed. They lie innocuously in the palm of his hand and whisper to him, _I wish you were there_, but he doesn't hear them over his own ineffectual protests of _"Seo-senpai, what's the meaning of all this?"_ that she never seems to hear.

Wakamatsu tucks them away into corners of his school bag, but he can't tuck thoughts of Seo to the corners of his mind. There is basketball practice today, and he has other things to keep in view, like how best to be navigating this ordeal so that he comes out of it with minimal damage. It's an exercise in futility, as with all his interactions with her.

Try as he might to keep her at the periphery of his crowded thoughts, she fights her way to the front, eyes resolute, and wraps an arm around his. "Waka," she beams thoughtlessly, not even looking up at him as she speaks, "follow me somewhere. Okay?" And he realises, all of a sudden, that this is real.

He waits obediently for her at the shoe lockers (he even rushed through changing and showering so that he'd be the one outside first, because gentlemen don't keep a lady waiting), and easily falls into step next to her when she appears. When he does that, she won't have to pull him along by his tie or the sleeve of his sweater, and he won't have to stumble forward and try to avoid thinking about her breasts when they press against his arm, which she's anchored firmly to her side. Synching his steps with hers is a _survival tactic_, he tells himself, _survival tactic_.

It does nothing for him, of course.

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Wakamatsu's tried glaring at his senpai, but he doesn't have any real capacity for conveying a menacing aura with his eyes, so it comes off as a really intense, earnest stare instead. The sort that, had he spotted one on any other guy, he would have classified as indicating preoccupation with a girl, and an attachment that was currently unrequited, though hopefully not for much longer. So he's been looking at her as though he loves her, has he? Looking at Seo-senpai the way he wants to look at Lorelei; Wakamatsu shakes his head despondently.

[]

Life is cruel in that sense, but Nozaki thinks it's crueller that life should grant this boy's wish and tie it up tightly with his fears – one pull of the wrong thread will cause everything to unravel in spectacularly slow motion. When Wakamatsu shows him those movie tickets and queries as to how he should respond, Nozaki tells him to just go.

If he asks no questions, after all, he won't be told any lies.

[]

Wakamatsu greets her, too, every time he sees her around. He'll cross paths with her in the hall during lunch or when he's changing for gym class, and immediately stiffen. He may have thought that he was radiating discontent by greeting her like that, but how it looks to the rest of the world when his body tenses and his breath catches and the words are stammered out is all cute bundle of nerves, on edge from trying to mask a crush. _Dear god_. He doesn't know what made him ever think that running after her would be of help in keeping her at a distance, either.

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Sitting across from her at a family restaurant is very surreal.

Wakamatsu scrambles for something else to focus on, so he won't have to think about whether he and Seo-senpai look like they're dating. He needs to distract himself, but all he can dwell on right now is the way she'd asked him out earlier. It was just a "follow me somewhere", no charmingly persuasive smile or earnest peering into his eyes. Hell, she hadn't even looked at him. It's as if his response was definitely going to be a yes so she didn't have to bother to double check. He massages the back of his neck wearily and sighs, absently studying her.

Seo is definitely in good spirits right then, chattering away animatedly even though he isn't listening at all. It's so strange. He feels like he's been singled out by her, yet the oblivious, in-her-own-world manner of going about things makes him feel that there is distance between them that cannot be crossed. When she pays all this attention to him, he doesn't feel flattered, he feels harassed. Wakamatsu stares at a nail on the wall until she pokes him in the arm, and when he focuses his eyes she's leaning forward, head tilted to the side.

"Eat," is all she says. So he swallows the bitter words in his mouth and picks up his utensils instead, swallows the urge to tell her to stop trying, in her own twisted way, to be _nice_ to him. She pays for the food, and he makes himself swear not to think about telling her for the next week at least. But someday, someday he'll tell her he can't stand her, and she'll _hear_ him.

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Wakamatsu was hoping that that someday would be today, here on the rooftop after school. But when he tells her, she doesn't hear him – and he snaps for the first time in his well-bred, genteel life. But the hurtful words he hurls glance right off her impregnable defences: she's that focused on finding a nickname for him. He screams and yells and lets tears of rage well up, but at the end of it all he's back at square one, no progress made. The gloves are meekly handed over.

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Nozaki buries his head in his hands, but it isn't enough, he wants to bury his head in the ground on Wakamatsu's behalf. It is pretty unfortunate that Seo and Lorelei happen to be one and the same, or Wakamatsu _may_ have succeeded in getting the message through. As it is, there's probably nothing to be hoped – though Seo does look a little taken with him now.

Nozaki can't blame her. The girl receives what looks and sounds exactly like a love letter, then gets called a goddess (indirectly) and is told that she's practically the only reason why Wakamatsu is still living (although she's also the one stressing him to death), and then the whole thing is topped off with a nice present.

…_Seo's actually blushing, isn't she?_

Why the hell is life so complicated?

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Sakura doesn't learn the full truth about the glove incident until sometime later, when she hears the Nozaki-version, which is slightly different from the Yuzuki-version.

Sakura doesn't know what she can do for them, either.

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The movie date is still a go, even in the light of these events. Of course Seo doesn't call it a date, and Wakamatsu doesn't realise it's a date, even though she specifically asked him out because she likes spending time with him and he's dressed to the nines (the shoujo manga is only partially to blame, you hear?).

In any case, it's a date, but it's a weird as hell date.

There's the armrest issue, first of all, that Wakamatsu completely bungles through. When Seo-senpai places both arms on the armrests on either side of her seat, he's left demurely folding his hands over each other in his lap. And they stay like that for long minutes, until all his fidgeting and sidelong glances culminate in another little outburst (almost like childish spite, now he thinks on it). But curling himself protectively over 'his armrest' isn't any good, because Seo-senpai simply rests her arm on the back of his neck instead. If he focuses, he can feel the steady rhythm of her pulse, from where her wrist lies draped over the crown of his head. Her fingers rest on his hair, lily-white tips half raking through his bangs. He's sorely tempted to mewl or purr, and only stops himself in the nick of time. _She could pet me right now_, he thinks, _and I wouldn't mind_. Wait, what?

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The seats around them were empty, though, and he could have used the armrest on the other side – now why didn't he think of that? The traitorous part of his mind whispers_ that it would have been rude to lean away from her._

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He's completely mystified when it's over (mystified by Seo, not the movie) and all he wants to do is go home and gingerly compartmentalise his thoughts – but Seo has never looked as cute as when she was asking him to go sit down at a café with her and talk about the movie, no, the alien special effects in the movie. He gets infected by her excited flush, so he agrees.

Wakamatsu makes a mental note that his Seo-senpai likes B-grade sci-fi flicks, and tries to ignore everything else that comes out of her mouth; it's making him feel sick. He grinds the base of his palms into his eye sockets and exhales thinly, thinking back to the theatre, to the part where Seo leaned her head on his shoulder, to the part where she'd placed her head in his lap while eating popcorn (who _does_ that?).

It's cold comfort, but still comfort. And when it comes to her, Wakamatsu will take whatever he can get.

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He's an idiot. He's an idiot for letting himself be manoeuvred into this jaunt to the roller coaster theme park, for actually begging her to take him along, even though it was initially the other way round. Who knew she was actually the devious sort? He'd never have guessed it, given the K.Y. nature she exemplifies so well.

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He'd never have guessed he was the sort to get jealous, too. Well, not jealous, but the moment she said "I'll invite someone else next time" was the moment he felt a swooping in his gut, this viscous sense of unease settling heavily in him. You know what, maybe he's just stupid. She probably thinks so too, but if she _does,_ she probably thinks his dumb and naïve side is cute, _right_?

"Never underestimate the enemy and overestimate yourself," the shoujo manga says. For once, he doesn't listen: big mistake, buddy.

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After an entire day of traumatised screaming, Wakamatsu's blue in the face and quite ready to tell his senpai that he can't take any more (of her, and the fucking roller coasters, and could he please go home), when she hauls the jelly-legged him upright and snaps a commemorative photo before he can even blink. He opens his mouth like the tired, indignant, notoriously abused youth that he is, and then –

Seo clicks her tongue. "Your mouth is hanging open, Waka," she frowns, "we'll have to take another one! C'mon."

Wakamatsu is completely, utterly defeated in that moment. He pushes what he was going to say to the bottom of his still-heaving stomach and arranges his face in a more becoming fashion. Seo angles the phone camera up, and he bends a little so both their faces are in the frame, pressing his right cheek to her left temple and smiling weakly.

She's pleased and satisfied with the result, he can tell, because she promises not to force him onto the most terrifying ride again, and buys him tri-coloured cotton candy before ushering him on board the kiddie coaster.

He's feeling tolerably well again by the time he gets to go home.

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For all that she makes his heart flutter, though, there a thousand more instances when she strikes fear into it. Like at the festival, where he's eating his yakisoba and making light conversation with Nozaki-senpai – and all of a sudden there she is, sprinting towards him and waving energetically.

Immediately Wakamatsu shoots to his feet, balance and smile unsteady as he forces out a shaky _k-k-konbanwa_ for her. The very picture of abject misery, that's what he is. On the inside, though, his heart is beating quicker for some reason – _hey_, the traitorous part of his mind whispers again: _does this mean he's a little happy that she's so excited to see him_? Or is this feeling nothing but fear? No one can say, since this _is_ all in his head.

Sure, she's making his life miserable, but Wakamatsu can consider (since it _is_ Seo) that it isn't being done entirely purposefully; maybe that's the way she shows how fond of her kouhai she is, maybe bullying him like this is the greatest extent to which her romantic side will reach. The thought makes him shudder, and he chastises himself. _Don't be so morbid_.

And that cool guy Seo-senpai is with?

Sure, Wakamatsu's telling himself that that guy's probably only interested in Seo-senpai for the _novelty_ of it, but that also leaves him open to sly digs from his own consciousness – saying that Seo is _special_, now are we? …_Guh_.

He's too busy pitying his Seo-senpai for having her hot boyfriend run off when she'd tried to make him envious by hanging out with another guy, and hiding his shaking face in his hands to conceal his flushed cheeks and tears, to actually catch any goldfish. Seo ends up giving Wakamatsu one of her own. It's black, and aren't black goldfish supposed to absorb maliciousness? If that's really the case, he thinks she ought to keep it, instead, since she definitely has the blacker heart of the two.

But she insists he take it, and he finds he can't say no, more because he doesn't trust himself to speak than as a favour to her.

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Somehow, it starts to make a little sense why he's the one who has to keep the black goldfish. Isn't he always thinking about how much Seo-senpai picks on him and how much he hates her for it? Hasn't he said that the only girl he could never stand to date is Seo-senpai? All these thoughts wash around the inside of his head as he walks, down the corridors, away from her, towards her, anywhere. Wakamatsu's calm and placid on the surface, but what's hidden in his heart are uglier emotions that do leak onto his face at intervals, though they never stay – the way he sees it, it's like pasting screen tones that can't quite stick.

He goes home and talks to the goldfish sometimes, when no one else is paying attention.

"I don't like her," he says seriously, watching it swim past his face. "She's not my type."

There's no sound, but Wakamatsu can imagine it replying, "So why is she stuck in your head?"

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Wakamatsu kneels contritely in front of the tank again after returning from the girls' swimsuit shopping expedition that he crashed. _I'm sorry for coming across as a pervert I'm sorry for coming across as a pervert I'm sorry for coming across as a pervert I'm sorry for coming across as a pervert_ –

_No sweat_, the fish nods.

He retreats to the sanctuary of the bathroom and washes his face, thinks about that ghastly bra he shoved into Seo-senpai's chest without even looking. "If I'd known she was going to buy it," he dejectedly muses, "I'd definitely have picked something much more tasteful…"

When he finally emerges from the toilet, it seems to him that the goldfish is surveying him with slyly accusatory eye. "Shut up," he mumbles, ducking his head and dismally failing to stop the beginning of a new flush as it spreads across his cheeks, "shut up."

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That comes back to haunt him during the drama club retreat, where Seo-senpai rudely awakens him after saving him from drowning in the bath. "I'm wearing that lame-ass bra you picked out!" she crows – and he'd like to think he gave her the reaction she was hoping for – that is, stonily silent mortification. He really can't tell her; he really can't.

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Seo gives Wakamatsu first aid, and he realises that this is the first time he's been injured by a ball that wasn't shot by her. Yeah, talk about revelations. Also, he saw her underwear today – her bra, to be specific. Seo-senpai has no idea how glad he is that it's one of her normal (_hold it, no, he doesn't actually know what bras she usually wears to school, this is an assumption_) ones and not the lame-ass one he picked out. Looking at her chest is way more calming than looking at her face, anyway, and doesn't that say a lot?

Maybe he should blame her presence on the bench for distracting him after all.

Still, it was nice of her to give him medical attention, and he really does want to thank her sincerely, but what she asks for is a little too much. When she brandishes the roll of bandages and asks him to go get a more serious injury, he sits there in silence and stares at her, dumbfounded.

If it were him, Wakamatsu thinks, he'd wrap those bandages over her mouth instead and kiss her through them, the rough material chafing both their lips. Just how thirsty would it make them? He wants to know. Later, he peels the compress off his forehead and sees the crudely drawn eye she tooled on: it stares back at him from the mirror; and he's only a little disappointed that it isn't a heart.

Safely in the confines of his thoughts, he adds that to the list of things he can't say out loud, because it's true that he still doesn't like Seo-senpai; not at all.

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He's started to treat the bruises and aches that he carries as a part of her already; they're little pieces of Seo-senpai that cling to his skin and follow him around school, through the trains, all the way home. There's no getting rid of them, and whenever one mark fades she reappears in his path to replace it with another – _as if he would forget her, as if he could forget her even without them_.

He'll collect these little bits of her and keep them close, and then maybe one day they'll piece together and become something whole and wholesome, in the chambers of his heart.

One day, Wakamatsu thinks, he'll finally get up the courage to tell Seo-senpai that he doesn't like her. He'll tell her that she terrifies him, that he breaks out in cold sweat whenever he sees her approaching, tell that in spite of how much he dislikes her he still blushes really easily around her and he doesn't know the reason why, tell her that she's the only person who's ever paid him so much dubiously positive attention, and that due to all the above things, she's pretty much always on his mind –

– even though he doesn't like her at all.

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**A/N: **

Some of you could probably tell that there's a small part of my other fics in here. Also. The talking goldfish swam over from this one-shot manga I read (link provided in text), so yeah just to clarify that I don't own that idea. Until next time, folks. Two weeks until A levels are over zzz

Please review :))))))))))))))))


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